Smoke Trails
by Aesyl
Summary: (Yasuko) Fujita/Hisa We had an agreement; never ask, never tell. That didn't stop us from being what we were to each other.


**A/N:** Sorry, sorry. I lied about Fireflies; I still need to draw up an outline for the University arc. Taking English this summer should get me motivated about that. Fujita/Hisa, set before the events of Fireflies. Or you can treat it as AU of my AU. Whatever you like. Did it tonight.

* * *

"Mahjong and a pipe, huh? You're just like an old man, these days."

I sat down on the steps next to her and rested my arms on my knees. She gave me a sideways glance, acknowledging she heard me, and tapped out her pipe carefully. A pack of cigarettes came out of her coat pocket in exchange for the pipe she put away. She lit up.

"Last I heard, that wasn't a crime."

I smiled. "Mind if I have one?"

She frowned. "You're underage."

"That would be the point, yes."

I wanted to laugh. She always tried so hard to be the adult between the two of us, but it rarely amounted to much. Being serious when you didn't have to - that was something I could never do. Then again, at least she never asked questions that didn't need to be asked. How's, why's, and when's... they weren't things that were important to her. In that, I could agree with. People were unreliable sources at best, though there was always something to be said for idle talk between friends, once in awhile.

"They're not the kind you'd like, anyway. I'm trying to run these through until I can get my usual."

I wasn't sure if she was trying to be considerate, or stingy. There was an apologetic smile, though with her, half the time those smiles were only to herself. She spent a lot of time thinking, Yasuko did. Whether she was figuring something out, or remembering things, that was something I didn't try to guess. I couldn't ask if she didn't, after all.

"I trust in your good taste. Would it be alright if I also borrowed your lighter?"

"If you must."

She was already rummaging in her pockets before she answered, but her tone had been amused despite the long-suffering affectation. I smiled to myself, glad at the familiarity. There was nothing unusual in our banter. Even she took comfort in it, I was sure.

"It's sweet!"

I almost dropped the donated cigarette in surprise. I tried a second, more experimental, puff. The smoke swirled through my mouth and I inhaled, before my throat reflexively blew it back out. The sweetness was from the filter wrapping, but the tobacco mixture itself was rather savory - a bit like tea.

"Yeah. I didn't think you liked sweet things anymore."

She was watching me with a small smile playing on her lips. Her chin rested against the upturned palm of her hand. She looked as relaxed as what she tried to pull off during the day; busy playing the confident pro.

I sighed. "Don't listen to my parents. They're on a health kick right now."

"I see. They must not like you being up this late, then."

"You're the one I see smoking out here at 3, every morning. I'm just keeping our poor, single neighbour company, as a good child should."

She laughed quietly at that, knowing that was an absurd statement on many levels. But it was true. Partly, at least. I often saw her sitting on the backyard steps while I struggled with insomnia. Not every day, but often enough that I wondered if she was out here even during the nights that I could sleep.

I laid my left hand over her right, which was resting on the stone between us. We might have an unspoken agreement to never pry, but that didn't mean I couldn't offer her my support, whatever that was worth. She glanced down at our hands, then looked back up at my face. An eyebrow went up and she smirked slightly. I wanted to roll my eyes. She just wanted to rile me up.

"You're a good kid, Hisa."

"Just because I call myself a child, doesn't mean you should agree with me."

Though I acted annoyed, I heard the affection in her voice. She was trying to play off the moment she created and keep things simple, but she was an honest person, too. It was something I quickly learned about her, and it was something I tried to respond to in kind. We protected each other, and that included giving the other an exit when they needed it.

"Only kids can play with other kids like this, right?"

She gestured at our fingers, which had become intertwined while I was musing on my own. Her palm was facing upwards, while mine remained down. It was obvious she was the one who took things a step further once it became clear I wasn't taking her exit. The look on her face was rueful, as if she had accepted this sort of thing could never be serious. She was always so serious.

"But we're not kids, so this isn't a game."

The look I gave her was unwavering, and soon I noticed a slow blush creeping up her neck. I brushed my thumb against hers and leaned in slowly. She hesitated for a fraction of a second before moving in my direction. Our cigarettes laid forgotten on the ground as her other hand helped to angle my face towards hers, our eyes closed. It was soft, and gentle, and a little bittersweet. The last, I could guess, was probably from our little cancersticks. Even so, I savored the moment. It was almost as if she was afraid to touch me; break me, even. I smiled into the kiss before we broke off, both a little nervous. Her eyes were dancing, and I could guess so were mine.

It was funny, of course. But then, I though most things were. She was always a little unsure, and I usually had all the answers. She thought things over, while I acted. I didn't understand much about relationships, but I knew I liked her, and I understood enough about people to know that she was a good person, and one I had fun with. This was a first for me, and while I don't know if she's been with others, I found that I didn't much care, either. I am me, and right now, that's enough.


End file.
